


Blind Date

by ColtsAndQuills



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, F/M, Multi, first part can be standalone fluff, or keep reading at your own risk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-26
Updated: 2015-11-26
Packaged: 2018-05-03 10:45:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5287697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ColtsAndQuills/pseuds/ColtsAndQuills
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jessica's roommate is a little on the overprotective side, but that'll be the least of Sam Winchester's worries as secrets come to light.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“So, what do you think? The dress, or jeans and this?”

Jess practically bounced on her toes as she held up a red cocktail dress in one hand and a white knit halter top in the other.

You walked past her and pulled out a faded tee from the closet.

“The color of this one brings out your eyes,” you offered, smiling.

“You’ve got to be kidding.” Her nose scrunched. Your suggestion sported two smurfs, and a bleach stain across one sleeve.

“Oh, come on. He’s bringing you to Antonio’s, not Zola,” you replied, tossing the shirt into a growing pile of date-night rejections.

“Since when did you have a problem with Antonio’s?” She gave a last look to the dress and halter before dejectedly dropping them to the floor with the rest.

You flopped to a seat on the edge of her bed. “Since now. You’re better than free peanuts and eau de stale beer.”

But the truth was, even if Jess was being treated to the finest French cuisine in Palo Alto, it still wouldn’t be good enough. The upbeat blonde had been the best thing to happen to you since starting university. When you first showed up at the sprawling campus, stressed about everything from keeping the grades that secured your tuition to what it would be like sharing an apartment with a stranger, she had been the one to ease the transition.

Fell asleep at your desk studying for midterms? Jess was the reason you woke up in the morning with a blanket wrapped around your shoulders.

Had to juggle work with a series of all-nighters? Jess was why a steaming mug of coffee was waiting for you when you dragged yourself through the door.

Every late-night fit of giggles, every tear-smeared moment of anxiety – she shared in both the best and worst of times, always ready with a smile or a shoulder whenever either was needed.

Your pickiness wasn’t a matter of jealousy, but of protection.

No one was good enough for Jessica Moore.

Especially not Sam Winchester.

“You really hate him that much?” The bed dipped as Jess took a seat beside you.

She trusted you. You could see it in her concerned stare, in the small downturn of her lips. She was looking forward to this date, but if you really disapproved, she’d take your advice and call it off.

Which sucked, because you really had no reason to doubt the guy.

“No, I don’t hate him,” you sighed. “But you could have anyone you want, Jess. This campus is crawling with people who are going to be the future elite, even if they don’t pass their bar exams. You deserve someone who can… I don’t know. Make your dreams come true. Who can fly you to Europe on your honeymoon and make sure you don’t have to pick up extra shifts to make ends meet.”

Jess laughed. “I don’t think he’s going to propose on the first date.”

“I just want you to have someone who really cares for you. You always look out for everyone, especially me. It’s about time someone returned the favor and gave you everything you want.”

She leaned into you, her hair fanned out against your shoulder. “What if what I want is someone who still holds doors open for a girl? Or who didn’t grow up with everything, so he works hard and appreciates what he’s got? The kind of guy who grins to himself when he thinks I’m not looking, as if he can’t believe his luck every time we’re together…”

Defeated, you smiled along with her. Sam might not have a family fortune to inherit or a big name to brag about, but he was a big, smitten doof every time he was near Jess. It might not be love, yet, but it would be. Someday.

“Yeah. Then I guess Sam’s an okay fit.”

Pride swallowed, you left her to walk back to the pile of clothes littering the floor and retrieved the halter.

“Wear this with those jeans that have the rip on the knee. Casual, but sexy. He’ll be walking into doors instead of opening them for you when he gets a look.”

Jessica hopped up from the bed, and before you knew it, had placed a quick peck on your lips.

“I love you. I couldn’t ask for a better roommate!” she gushed. You playfully shoved her away, but she had already seen the blush that lit up your cheeks. “He’ll be here in less than a half hour. Think you can hang out with him for a few minutes if I grab a quick shower?”

“Yeah, I’ll play nice.”

Which meant you would only tease him about those boyband-bangs once. Maybe twice.

“Hey, Jess.”

She had already been heading out of the room, but paused to look back to you.

“Does Sam know about… well, you know.” You mimed a gun with your forefinger and thumb. “That you’re a Hunter?”

“ _Was_  a Hunter,” she corrected. “And no way, that’s behind me. No reason to fill him in on the family business. At least, not until the wedding.”

She winked and ducked just in time to avoid the pillow you tossed at her head. The supernatural lifestyle might be behind her, but the girl still had the reflexes she had been trained with. Not to mention, a mean right hook if anyone chose to piss her off.

Sam Winchester had no idea what he was in for.


	2. Chapter 2

After three successful dates, you had to admit, this thing between Jess and Sam was more than a fling.

And after five months, you had to admit, this thing was something entirely new for the both of them.

A while back, over a long session of wine and rom-coms, a few days after you had learned the truth of Jess’ past, she had confessed her dreams to you. They were simple, the kind of small treasures most took for granted – a small house of her own, a husband, kids – but you could hear the note of cynicism threaded between the words. Jess may have left the hunting life behind, but she hadn’t believed she could truly escape it.

Until now.

The confession was in the color in her cheeks, in the way a smile seemed unavoidable every time Sam’s name came up in conversation. When they looked at one another, they were seeing not just today, but a future.  _Their_  future.

Which was why the idea of joining them for a drive-in movie had you gagging from your place on your bed.

“I already told Sam you were going,” said Jess. You lost sight of her smile when she tossed a pair of jeans over your face. You grumped beneath the denim. No way were they as comfy as the pajama shorts you were currently wearing.

“Why would I want to come and watch you two make out for three hours?” you whined.

A tee landed on the jeans. “Because he knows how much you mean to me and wants your approval.”

“Tell him to grow his hair out and lose the bangs, and then we’ll talk,” you replied, turning your face into your oh-so-comfy pillow.

But for all your teasing and griping, a few hours later, you were squished between her and Sam on an overcrowded rise of metal bleachers. The drive-in was a community event, a temporary screen thrown up in a field for the final weeks of summer. The novelty of it was still going strong, and everyone from fellow students to families full of screaming kids were pouring out of cars and stretching out on the grass.

“Sorry,” Sam apologized to you at the start of the film. “I should have brought a blanket for us to lie on.”

“Ooh. Didn’t realize you wanted it to be  _that_  kind of date.” The corner of your lip quirked, and Sam’s eyes darted between you and Jess.

“Huh? No… I meant…” He looked to her for help, but she was ignoring you both in favor of the screen. Letters etched in red had begun to drip across the night sky.

“Shh!” Grabbing some popcorn from the paper bucket on your lap, she gestured at the opening credits excitedly with her free hand. “It’s starting!”

“A horror movie?” you and Sam asked in unison. His face was no more enthused than your own. Jess, however, was all smiles.

“I love these things. They’re hysterical!”

A little over two hours and what you estimated to be forty gallons of blood later, the three of you were winding through the crowds to the open streets. You gratefully sucked in air that didn’t smell like nuked butter and nacho sauce.

“I can’t believe you guys didn’t want to stay for the second feature,” Jess said, her arms looped in both your’s and Sam’s.

“I’m going to be sleeping with the lights on for at least a month,” you groaned.

“And I’ve seen enough dead people to last me a lifetime,” Sam added. His jacket had a large Coke stain on the front. The movie had possibly made you a little jumpy.

“Aww, poor things. I’ll protect you both,” she laughed.

Sam’s cheeks dimpled as he chuckled along, but you knew better.

As you walked, the squeals and raucous laughter of bar crowds and the drive-in were left behind, replaced by diners enjoying wine from the patios of upscale restaurants and scattered couples walking hand-in-hand. It wasn’t long before the lampposts became fewer, leafy oaks growing in their place, the tarmac giving way to the gravel path of a park.

You were amazed not to feel like a third wheel. Jess would never let you be the odd one out, but from Sam, the sensation of being so welcome came as surprising. He had always been guarded in the past, but now, he smiled as if you were right where you belonged.

Perhaps that’s what sparked your moment of tenderness for the lovebirds.

“Jess, Sam, move over there. Yeah, there, in front of the fountain.“

The park was still at this hour, quiet with the exception of your own talk and laughter. Foliage  basked silver against a bright moon, and the fountain’s waters foamed and bubbled against dancing lights. It was the perfect photo op. Even Sam’s smile, which had somehow morphed from dazzling to hilariously awkward as he posed for the picture, couldn’t ruin the shot.

"Perfect!” You called. “Three, two…”

The phone’s camera flashed.

“How is it?” asked Jess.

“Can you send it to me?” followed Sam.

“Yeah, just a sec—” But when you looked at the photo, you swore. “Ugh! This would’ve been perfect except for creepy photobomber. We gotta take it over.”

You peered around Sam, trying to spot the figure that had invaded the Kodak moment, but the park was empty. Following your lead, Jess and Sam turned to gaze into the shadows, but had no better luck.

“What’d you see?” she asked.

You held your phone out to them.

“Can’t see him — or maybe it’s a her — too well. But look.”

You pointed to two silvery pinpricks of light in the back of the frame. “Their eyes caught the flash.”

The change in Jess was instantaneous, from spritely schoolgirl to your own real-life Buffy. You had seen her like this, wearing the mask of her old life, only once before. It was a reminder of what moved in unwatched corners, turning the picturesque park into the page of a penny dreadful. Suddenly, the evening’s earlier snacks were less a pleasant memory than a sour curl in your stomach.

All Jess wanted was normalcy, but tonight, she wasn’t going to be given the chance.

“I forgot something. Go on ahead, I’ll catch up!” she cried, shoes already pounding off the path.

On the inside, you mentally banged your head into a brick wall. A lifetime of being a hunter, and that was her best excuse to flee into the night? Predictably, Sam didn’t buy it.

“Hey! The movie’s the other way!” he shouted.

“Shortcut!” she called, voice receding. “Sam, stay with her!”

What Jess really meant was for  _you_  to stay with  _him_. Her last look over her shoulder was a silent plea: Keep him out of this.  _You know what I have to do_.

But the thing was, keeping Sam Winchester in one place when he wanted to go was like trying to restrain a moose. As you grabbed his sleeve, he caught you by the shoulders.

“Run to the coffee house,” he commanded. “I’m not letting her run off like that by herself.”

You knew the place he was talking about. You could see its lights from here, almost make out the soft lilt of jazz.

“Sam, she’ll be fine—” you tried, but he had already torn free and taken off at what you wanted to call a gallop. Crazy long legs on that one.

An inner part of you – probably one that wore glitzy red and carried a pitchfork for swagger – whispered how easy it would be to go sip lattes while Sam made a damsel out of himself, but unfortunately, your conscience wouldn’t sit right if the dope got himself killed, so you took up the tail-end of this late-night jog through the park.

Jess should have been easy to spot, but there was no blonde hair flashing between the trees, no shadows in motion save the one at your heels. As each breath began to burn, one stretch of Sam’s legs requiring three of your own to keep him in sight, it occurred to you how ill-equipped you were to play the part of hero.

But so was Sam, clueless to the fact that his interference could jeopardize both his life and that of the girl he loved.

And so you kept it up, ignoring the growing pang in your side, dodging gnarled trunks and weathered benches, so busy focusing on pursuing Sam and Jess that you didn’t realize someone was pursuing you.

When their arm cinched around your waist, tight enough to cut off your breath, the unexpected halt nearly toppled you both. Your scream never made it past your lips, muffled by a clammy palm that gave way like the skin of rotten fruit as you bit down.  

It was a he, whoever — or whatever — it was that had you; the hairs on his chin scratched your cheek as he whispered a warning to remain still. You could hardly focus on his command, the echoes of your heart clambering behind your breast, your concentration fully on controlling your stomach and ignoring the rank taste that had flooded your mouth.

He seemed to take pleasure in your fear. As he pulled you along, he murmured threats of what he would do if you struggled, made promises of the tortures your friends would endure if you attempted again to cry out. But they were only that — threats and promises. Nothing tangible, nothing real. Not like the pain you felt when Sam barrelled into you both.

The three of you struck the ground with a teeth-clattering crash. Rust filled your mouth and lights danced behind your eyes, but Sam’s move was strategic, not a fumbling collision, and he somehow managed to shield you from the worst of the fall. Your attacker fumbled for a purchase on your shoulder, but Sam was quick to maneuver you out of harm’s reach, back on his feet and poised to fight before you could even figure out which way was up.

Prone on your back, you had a clear view of it all, but that didn’t make what was unfolding any easier to believe. The stranger’s blows flew wild, driven by fear and rage. Fingers rigid, he clawed at Sam’s eyes and throat when his punches failed, but Sam wove effortlessly between every strike. He even got in several sharp jabs of his own.

 _Huh_ , you thought.  _Guess all those muscles weren’t just for show_.

A trail of warmth was running down your brow, but you ignored it, dragging yourself to your knees. As good as Sam was, the monster wasn’t going down.

Maybe if you could convince your bruised body to roll, you could let the monster trip over you. Bet no one would see that coming.

“Hey! Hey, asshole! Over here!”

Or, better yet, no one saw this coming, either.

A streak of gold in the dark, Jessica appeared shouting and with all the hair-whipping glory of the best of action heroes. She ripped her necklace from her throat and threw it around the creature’s own. A simple silver chain, by all reason, it should have been completely harmless, but the small links began sizzling against its skin.

This did not make for a happy monster.

Its eyes, now shining and inhuman, locked on you, weakest link, possible hostage, and it lunged against Jessica’s restraint. The necklace snapped, and it took all of her weight to hold back its twisting, desperate reach.

If she lost her hold, it could turn and rip her apart. Or you or Sam, but it was the safety of your best friend that narrowed your world to Jess’s red face and struggling breaths.

Screaming her name, you stumbled to your feet, and Sam charged forth with a roar. In the dim light, you could barely see the shard of a branch he gripped in one fist, but you could easily make out the shining grin of the monster.

“Sam, that won’t work!” Jessica shrieked, her heels slipping as she tried to hold her ground.

“No,” Sam growled, plunging the wood forward. A plume of blood marked its pierced heart, but the monster only laughed in Sam’s face. In return, Sam smiled thinly. “But this will.”

His fist lashed out, snatching the remains of Jess’ necklace from her hand, and in a movement just as quick, he pulled the branch free and thrust his hand into the wound.

The creature, mouth gaping, seemed to die without fully understanding why. It collapsed snarling, with muscles jerking, but otherwise helpless to the death that stole the strange light from its eyes.

“What… what?” you sputtered. Not to look a gift slaying in the mouth, but your what-the-hell quotient had been filled for the night.

“Silver,” Sam answered, withdrawing his hand but leaving the chain behind. You could see an inch of it snaking from the wound, thin and bright.

_Huh._

There was a long pause in which all of you stared soundlessly at one another, one too many secrets simultaneously out in the open, but you were quick to fix the heavy silence.

“Am I the only one in Stanford who’s NOT a hunter?!”

Jess and Sam didn’t respond, too caught up in sharing a meaningful stare that you didn’t even want to begin to decipher. Two bump-in-the-night-crossed lovers, you waited for them to break into some kind of super secret hunter handshake, but neither seemed to know how to react.

“Do I have a concussion?” you asked, figuring it was as good a way as any to break the standoff.

“Jesus, I’m sorry!” Jess rushed forward, brushing her fingers against your hair. “Are you okay? I never would have run off if I thought it would double back after you.”

“Are you dizzy?” Sam asked, joining Jess at your side. “You’ve got a lump, but I don’t think it’s a concussion…”

“That’s good. I’d hate to sue you. I hear hunters don’t get paid much.”

Sam blanched. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to knock into you so hard.”

“You’re huge. How else did you think you’d knock into me?” you pressed, but the way Sam’s brow drooped made you feel guilty for the tease. “I’m kidding. Get me home and all is forgiven.”

“Good plan,” Jess agreed. “Sam, help her home. I’m going to take care of this.” Her foot connected not too kindly with the prone figure on the ground.

“What? Shouldn’t I–” Sam began.

“If she passes out, I won’t be strong enough to carry her back,” Jess insisted. “So unless you want to call the paramedics and deal with a whole lot of questioning…”

You frowned, but couldn’t argue. The three of you looked like participants in a Greasers versus Socs mixer.

“How are you going to take care of that?” you asked dubiously, trying not to let your eyes linger on the form crumpled at Jess’s feet.

“You don’t want to know,” she and Sam both replied, perfectly in sync. Hunters were so weird.

It sucked to love one of them so much. And the big one was growing on you, too.

“Come back soon. No more monster fighting on your own.” You threw your arms around Jess’s neck, squeezing her tight. It was only then that you could feel her heart racing, realized you weren’t the only one who had been scared shitless by this.

“You can count on it. And I’ll message soon as I’m finished. Sam, please?”

“I’ll get her home safe. I promise,” he responded. There was a second’s hesitation, but then he leaned forward and brushed his lips against hers.

So, it would seem Jess was forgiven her secret. And when she returned his gesture with a soft graze of fingers against his cheek, you knew Sam was forgiven, too.

_Good._

A breath you didn’t realized you had been holding whispered past your swollen lips.

_This was good._

There would still be nights when you’d wish she was curled up on the sofa with you over a movie rather than spending the night cuddled at Sam’s place, times when he’d be the one she shared her laughter and fears with, but it was okay. Better than okay.

 _Good_ , you told yourself again.

Because these nightmares Sam and Jess shared, this past – God, she had told you some of it, but what she had confided was a watercolor, all pale shades and unthreatening. You felt guilty that it took the taste of blood in your mouth to make you understand how much she bore because of her history.

You wouldn’t spite her Sam – not when he could help carry that weight in a way you’d never be able.

* * *

“So… dad and brother in the construction business, mom dead of cancer – all of that was a lie?” you asked.

Sam stayed near as you walked together, his hip always close enough to brush against your own in those dark spaces between lampposts.

“The construction and the cancer, yeah,” he admitted. He didn’t offer any clarification about his mom, but went on to say, “Dean and my dad are real and out there, though.”

“Out there? You mean hunting?”

Sam’s hands found his pockets as he looked skyward and sighed. “That’s what they do.”

“Like a family business or something.”

A chuff of Sam’s laughter caught you off guard, and you found yourself smiling for the first time since leaving the movie.

“Something like that, yeah.” He grinned down at you. “You know, you remind me of Dean a little. He’s a pain in my ass, too.”

You laughed despite the way it made your head throb. Fair enough.

“He sounds like a charmer.”

“Uh huh. He’s also overprotective,” Sam intoned.

Overprotective? Was that a hint? You practiced the exact right amount of protection, and arched a brow to let him know as much.

It would have been easy for him to contest that, but his smile softened, and his hand found a place on your shoulder.

“Thanks. For looking out for her. Trust me, this whole transition to normality, it’s not easy. You mean the world to her.”

“The feeling’s mutual. So you had better take care of her, Sam. You hurt her, and I’ll be way scarier than monster photobombers.”

You expected a humored chuckle, but what you got was a warm hand on your neck and a kiss on the top of your head. Thank God it was dark. You were the one who usually made him blush, not the other way around.

“I wouldn’t dream of it. So you need help with that bump, or…?”

Sam, per the usual, was playing the part of kindly gentleman, but without saying so, you could tell he was eager to get back to the park and Jess. Truth was, you wanted him there, too. Call it newbie jitters, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that danger had been left behind. Your imagination was tempting you with images of silver eyes watching Jess, alone and unarmed, from the shadows.

Luckily, you had reached the apartment. The living room was already softly lit, all warm and welcoming, thanks to the modern wonder of lamp timers.  

“Hot shower, aspirin, and late-night TV and I’ll be like brand new,” you assured. And though you would usually cringe at news of Sam spending the night (the boy could be noisy when motivated), you slipped in, “But if you guys came back here for the night, I might sleep a little easier.”

You had the distinct impression he’d have cuffed you lightly on the shoulder, or maybe ruffled your hair –  _sure thing, kiddo_  – if you weren’t so banged up, and wondered if it was a vibe he had inherited from his big brother. Instead, he only grinned, all dimples and amusement.

“Sure. We’ll be back before you know it.”

Sam, thankfully, waited until your door was locked and secured behind you before leaving. You waved to him from the window before letting the curtain fall with a soft hiccup.

“Don’t you dare cry,” you hissed at yourself. “So you had a run in with a monster. You lived. You are a badass hunter sidekick. You will not jump at every shadow for the next few weeks.”

“Ah, but some shadows are worth jumping at.”

You jumped at the voice, knocking into the table lamp. It pinwheeled on its edge, making the figure that stood in the doorway slide in and out of darkness, like a silhouette caught in flame, until it landed on the floor with a crash.

“You don’t have the wisest choice in boyfriends.”

“What?” You reached to pull your phone from your pocket, but your fingers only found spare change. An image flashed in your mind, of striking the ground hard enough to easily send your cell flying, but you didn’t have time to ponder your bad luck. Your stomach began to hurt so badly it pulled all sense and reason away.  

In the darkness, the yellow eyes smiled.

“Don’t take this personally, sweetheart. But I’m afraid I need to leave a message.”

**Author's Note:**

> ▻ Actually did a bit of research to find some popular college bars by Stanford, so credit for “eau de beer” has to go to a reviewer on yelp.  
> ▻ Originally based on a prompt for "Jessica, Reader, Roommate AU" over at [spnfemslashimagines.](http://spnfemslashimagines.tumblr.com)  
> ▻ Per the original requester, I kept it ambiguous as to whether Reader likes Jess or **_likes_** Jess, so read it however best fits you.


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